


Delivery

by lesbianophelia



Series: If The City Never Sleeps (Then That Makes Two) [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Katniss-centric, Tumblr Prompt, before City, kind of sad, read the camping chapters of City if you need relevant fluff to comfort yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianophelia/pseuds/lesbianophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The knock at the door startles her, it’s so urgent. So unmistakably from a peacekeeper, and if there’s a peacekeeper knocking on her door, it’s nothing good. They’ve caught her hunting without a permit. Or – no. She refuses to think about that. She just watches from the bedroom as her mother comes out of the kitchen, dries her hands on the skirt of her dress, and answers the door." </p><p>A preface, of sorts, for If The City Never Sleeps (Then That Makes Two)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Dorsalfinnick and Greenwool made me do it!! Thanks to Gentlemama for beta-ing and helping me to come up with a couple of crucial plot points! Also posted on my Tumblr.

The knock at the door startles her, it’s so urgent. So unmistakably from a peacekeeper, and if there’s a _peacekeeper_  knocking on her door, it’s nothing good. They’ve caught her hunting without a permit. Or – no. She refuses to think about that. She just watches from the bedroom as her mother comes out of the kitchen, dries her hands on the skirt of her dress, and answers the door.

“We’re here with a delivery for Katniss Everdeen,” a familiar voice says.  _Darius_. “She’s home, I assume?”

“Katniss?” her mother calls, looking over her shoulder. She’s caught. She swallows hard and steps forward. “Would you like some tea?” she asks, nodding towards the peacekeepers. They both shake their heads but step into the house anyway.

“Can I help you?” Katniss asks, her voice too small.

The taller man glances over at Darius and produces a sealed envelope. She hears her sister whispering behind her and her hands shake when she takes it. Her name is printed on it in bold letters that broker no argument, but it’s the address that it was sent from that’s the hardest part.  

**THE ORDERED SPOUSE PROGRAM. 283 Veranda Drive, Capitol, Panem.**

“Your train leaves in half an hour,” Darius says, voice almost soft enough to be apologetic. “It’s not optimal, but you’re going to need to be there within the next fifteen minutes.”

“We need this signed,” the other man continues, nodding towards the envelope that’s starting to crumple in her grip. “So, if you have a bag you need packed, I would get on with it.”

Right. She feels numb while she opens the envelope. Darius offers her a pen, and she clutches it while she scans over the marriage certificate.  _Peeta Mellark_. That’s the man who ordered her. His name is all over the paperwork.  _Peeta Mellark. Peeta Mellark._

“Which … which name?” she whispers, and she hopes that Prim won’t hear it. But she’s wrong.

“Katniss!” Prim cries from behind her, but it’s too late. Much too late.

“Maiden name,” Darius answers. “He’ll let you know what you’re supposed to go by when you meet him, I’m sure.”

She nods dumbly. Her handwriting is horrible, especially beside his careful cursive, but she gets it on the page.

“You can’t leave!”

Her sister is sobbing. Her mother must have figured it out, too. Before she can help herself, a tear slides down her cheek and onto the dried ink of her new husband’s name. She wipes at her eyes roughly.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I’m  _so_  sorry, Prim.”

She had allowed herself to get caught up in it. In the idea of life just being the way it was after she signed up for the registry and was given the stipend with more money than they had ever had all at one time. And now, she’s paying for it.

“Is this all you need?” Katniss asks.

The peacekeepers both nod, and she hands the forms over so that they can make sure it’s all. Darius comes to the bedroom with them, where her mother is already packing things into her father’s hunting bag.

“Standard protocol,” Darius explains, leaning against the doorframe. As if she could run from this. Katniss joins her mother in front of the dresser. She’s careful not to take everything – Prim needs clothing more than Katniss will in the Capitol. Her husband likely won’t appreciate her wanting to wear things from home. But then … she can’t expect him to pay for her clothing.

“That’s where the money came from,” her mother whispers. She isn’t crying. Katniss feels pathetic for wishing that she would.

She nods. “You have to take care of Prim. You have to. You can’t leave again.”

“I know. I won’t. I was sick. If I had known –”

“You have to take care of her,” Katniss interrupts, because she doesn’t have much time, and she doesn’t want to waste it. Prim comes in with the plant book, and Katniss tries to protest, but she insists.

“Please,” Prim says, sounding older than she is, even with her tear streaked cheeks. “To remember us by?”   
  
Her sister’s voice cracks, and she swallows hard. Reaches out and tucks a piece of Prim’s hair back behind her ear. “I’m not going to forget you, Little Duck. I love you. That’s why … I  _had_  to do this, Prim.”

Prim recoils a little bit, and then swallows hard and hugs Katniss. As if realizing that she won’t get another chance.  _Oh_ , Katniss won’t get another chance, either. She won’t have the chance to do a lot of things. See Gale again, for instance. Or shoot a bow. She won’t be able to swim, either. What has she  _done_?

She’s embarrassed at the way she lets her mother fold her arms around her. At the way her eyes close at the contact. She’s pathetic. But if this is her last chance, she ought to take it. Darius steps out and informs them that they have about three minutes, and none of them manage to get much more out other than  _I love you_ s. Over and over again.  _I love you. I love you._

And she knows that Prim loves her, but she can’t help but to worry that she’ll never manage to forgive her for this.


End file.
